The Journey

• Zeba Zia, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2011

Stumbing, he made his way forward, the blistering wind tearing into him. Two days in weather like this had temted him beyond measure to turn tail and go back the way he had come.

But he had something to prove. All his life he had followed in his father's famous footsteps, forever being compared to him and found wanting. His father, the fearless explorer and adventurer. Whatever he had decided to do, his father had already done, and done better. In an attemt to break free of his father's shadow, he had gone where his father had never been. Antartica, no man's land, the land of death.

He shivered, partly of cold and partly from the knowledge of what lay ahead. He plodded on. The pack he carried began to weigh him down. He had never felt so exhausted. Doggedly, he persisted his sharp eyes hunting for shelter from the relentless winds. He had found shelter in caves the first two nights but tonight it seemed he was doomed to spend the night in his small tent. He groaned. The tent was no protection from harsh cold air.

Once the tent was up and a meagre dinner eaten, he settled down to sleep with his dogs by his side- his lone, faithful companions. He fell asleep in less than a minute.
The next day progressed reasonbly well. He trudged onwards, his once shard vision blurring from the endless glare of the sun. Perhaps it was because of this that he failed to notice the thinning of the ice under his feet.

When the ice began to crack it came as a complete surprise. Panic and terror gave way quickly to the strenght of his will. He freed his dogs from their harness so they could escape, he abandoned his backpack and fleed, the ice falling behind him into the freezing water. he knew that if he was to fall into the water, he would die. Now the falling ice was catching him, he saw that he would not make it.

It was in that moment that he knew. How foolish he was to want to be greater than his father. How foolish to think that what others thought of him was important.

The dogs looked back as they saw their master go down. In unisine, they howled their grief and sorrow. The wind carried their howls for mile in all direction.